The Real Wildling
by jantaiwan
Summary: Deep in the Silver Mountains, there lives a young boy. When he was just a baby his parents died in a terrible plane crash. Raised by Kangaskhan and with a Bulbasaur as his best friend he must strive to survive, fight to take his place in the world, and do his utmost to discover who he is and where he came from.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – I do not own Pokémon or any of its characters. This is purely a work of fan fiction and will not be used for monetary gains.

Note – This story mostly takes place in the Kanto and Johto regions, but includes Pokémon from all regions and generations. I have taken inspiration from the anime and game and will be taking quite a few liberties with battle mechanics.

I hope you enjoy it.

**The Real Wildling**

**Part 1 – A Boy in the Mountains**

Deep in the silver mountains, beyond Viridian City and Victory Road lived a young boy. When he was just a baby, barely one year old, his parents' private plane crashed into Mount Silver. He was the only survivor.

The plane crashed so deep in the mountains that despite many efforts neither the wreck nor the baby were ever found. Lucky for the boy, a Kangaskhan mother who had lost her own baby in a fire found him and took him in as her own.

For the first two years of his life he lived with her in her herd. He played with the other Kangaskhan young, ate what they ate, roamed where they roamed, and slept in his adopted mother's pouch. He is most likely the only human to ever see the extremely rare male Kangaskhan. But, of course he didn't know that, he didn't know much about the comings and goings of people at all.

He was a very independent boy. By the age of two, to his mother's despair, he refused to get back in her pouch to sleep. He wanted to run around and explore, and preferred to sleep curled up next to her rather than being cooped up in the confines of her pouch.

By the age of four he was already gathering his own food and had made a small nest for himself a little bit away from the herd. Though he loved the Kangaskhan, he had an intrinsic feeling that he wasn't one of them. He was something different all together.

When he was six years old, while foraging for bugs and berries near a stream he heard a fearful cry. He immediately ran over to investigate and found a tiny injured Bulbasaur being hassled by a vicious and hungry looking pack of Houndoom. With no regard for his own life he started yelling and throwing stones at the pack. This was just the kind of boy he was.

When the Houndoom ignored him, he picked up a stick and ran straight for them. They barked and spat fire at him. At first he was able to dodge their attacks and drive them away a bit with his stick. But there were five of them and only one of him. Soon both the boy and the Bulbasaur were surrounded. The boy's stick was ripped from his hands. Flames, barks and screams filled the air. Things looked extremely dire.

But, just as the pack closed in for the kill, there was a roar from the direction of the stream. The Kangaskhan had heard their strange family member's cries. They stampeded in and sent the Houndoom running with their tails between their legs. Both the boy and the Bulbasaur were saved.

The boy was badly injured. It took many weeks for him to recover under constant care from the Bulbasaur, his herd, and a Chansey that was well known to the Kangaskhan. To this day he carries a large wrinkly scar on his left side where a flamethrower burned him, but his injuries were nothing when compared to the fact that he had made a lifelong friend.

The boy and the Bulbasaur spent all of their time together. They roamed far and wide exploring their mountain home and once even came across the wreck of his parents' airplane. The torn metal carcass meant nothing to the boy, but the three skeletons of the pilot and his parents drew him like a magnet. He buried them in the way that the Kangaskhan buried their dead and cried over their graves for a full three days. During this whole time his friend, Bulbasaur stayed by his side and brought him herbs and berries to eat. After the three days they left that place and never returned to it again.

The boy didn't spend his whole young life away from humans. When he was eight, an old hiker who had gotten lost in the mountains stumbled upon the boy. The naked boy with his long golden blonde hair and murky green eyes that could talk to Pokémon but had no concept of human speech fascinated him. He decided to stay in the mountains for a while to try and befriend the wild boy and take him back to civilization.

The old man fascinated the boy as well. He found his words at once confusing and wonderful. Each Pokémon had a different cry, but in the end their words were simple and were mostly focused around food and daily activities. The old man's words were plentiful. He had a different word for everything he saw and touched and could jabber for hours about things that the boy had no hope of comprehending.

He also couldn't understand the old man's strange outer skin that he could remove and clean before wearing again. The boy himself had never worn clothes and when the old man offered him some he found them constricting and highly uncomfortable. Though he could see how they would be useful during the winter and did decide to keep some of them.

The last and possibly strangest thing was how the old man carried Pokémon inside strange round pebbles. The Pokémon said they didn't mind, but the boy himself knew how he hated being in his mother's pouch. He couldn't understand why the old man would do this to his friends.

The old man stayed with the boy for nearly a month. During that time he taught him some words. He taught him his name, River, and he gave the boy a name, Dale. River taught Dale how to use fire to cook food. He taught him about ropes and how to tie knots. And he tried his best to teach him about houses, towns, cities, and the people that lived inside them. River wanted the boy to leave the mountains with him. He wanted to show Dale that there was something more to the world. But it soon became clear to him that the boy was going nowhere. The mountains were the only home he knew. The Pokémon were the only family he had.

On the day that the old man left he took out a square box from his backpack, something he had never shown Dale before. He stood next to the boy, reached out his arm, smiled at the box, and depressed a part of the box. There was a white flash of light that caused Dale to jump back and rub his eyes. He stared at the old man skeptically while Bulbasaur waved his vines in a threatening manner.

River laughed. He pulled a flat leaf from the box, shook it a few times and called Dale over. Then he showed the boy the first photograph he'd ever seen. Dale's mouth fell wide open. For the first time, other than in a river or pool, he saw what he looked like. He was skinny with long gangly arms, golden hair, and a serious looking face with thick golden eyebrows over a pair of green eyes.

River took out a small stick and scribbled his name over his head and Dale's name over his.

"Here," he said and handed the photo to Dale. Dale grinned from ear to ear as he clutched the photo to his bare chest. To him the photo was something magical and the most wonderful gift he had ever received.

As the boy watched the old man walk down the mountain, he actually felt a stream of tears running down his cheeks. He stared at the picture and promised himself that one day, when he was ready, he would leave the mountains and find the old man again. There was more he wanted to learn about his own kind, he just wasn't ready, not yet.

**The End of Part 1**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer – I do not own Pokémon or any of its characters. This is purely a work of fan fiction and will not be used for monetary gains.

Note – This story mostly takes place in the Kanto and Johto regions, but includes Pokémon from all regions and generations. I have taken inspiration from the anime and game and will be taking quite a few liberties with battle mechanics.

I hope you enjoy it.

**The Real Wildling**

**Part 2 – First Steps**

It was a beautiful summer day. The sky above Mount Silver was a clear blue with only a few wisps of pure white clouds on the horizon. A light breeze blew down a deep lush green valley filled with trees and cut through by a slowly flowing river. The breeze ruffled the long golden hair of a young boy that sat crouched on a rock in the center of the river.

Though the boy didn't know it, today was a special day, a day that many other children set off on their journey to become a Pokémon trainer. Today was his tenth birthday.

The boy suddenly tensed. Then with the grace of a Dragonair, he dove through the air and with barely a splash disappeared under the water. Moments later he broke the surface of the water, a frantically struggling Magikarp clutched between his arms and his chest.

He tossed the bright red fish up high. A Spearow flew through the air like a flash of lightning, smacked into the Magikarp and sent it flying onto the bank of the river. With a thud a Machop finished of the fish. Together with the Machop, a Bulbasaur dropped twigs, sticks, and dried leaves around the dead Magikarp. A Growlithe joined the other Pokemon and used ember to set the gathered kindling alight. By the time the boy clambered out of the river the delicious smell of cooking fish already filled the air.

After they finished eating, the boy and his Pokémon friends strolled over to a small copse of trees near the valley wall. The trees served as their home and a place for the boy's belongings, a few things he had collected during his ten years living in the mountains among the wild Pokémon.

A few years back, when the boy was eight years old, an old hiker named River had visited the mountains. He was the first person the boy could remember meeting. He taught the boy about people. He gave him a name, Dale. He also gave him his first belongings. Before Dale had met River he had never felt the need for things like tools, or clothes, or names. But after the old man left he realized just how useful manmade things could be.

The best thing that River gave Dale was a photograph of the two of them with some lines scribbled above their heads. Dale sat down under his favorite tree, a gnarly old maple tree with a split trunk that grew in two different directions like two strange arms reaching for the heavens. He took out the now very worn photograph from where it was stored under a rock and inspected it.

The thing that always amused him most was how he stood there clothed only in a pair of blue swim shorts that the old man insisted he wear, while River was covered from head to toe in the second skin he called clothes. Now that River was gone, Dale mostly went around naked like his Pokémon friends. Though, he had to admit, the coat and shorts River had gifted him came in very handy in the cold winter months.

Dale looked up at the old maple tree. Its leaves were changing color, like it did every year. Dale knew this meant that winter and the biting snow was coming. Usually he and his Pokémon friends would join up with the Kangaskhan and huddle down with them for warmth. But, the herd had migrated away from the valley after the previous winter and Dale had no idea when they would be back.

He had heard from some migrating bird Pokémon that it was much warmer down at the foot of the mountains during winter. He had also heard that that was where other people made their homes. He had never concerned himself with other people before. But ever since River's visit he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to live among his own kind, even if it was just for a little while.

Right there and then Dale decided that he would travel down the mountain. At the very least he would see other places and meet other Pokémon. And who knew, he might even find some other people. He might even be lucky enough to see his old friend, River.

Dale pulled on his blue shorts. He knew wearing the second skin made people like River more comfortable. He pulled on his jacket. It was already a little cold and the jacket had pockets for his belongings.

Dale roared at Bulbasaur and Growlithe. He grunted at Machop and screeched at Spearow to follow him. Then he set off out of the valley. He hoped his friends would follow him. The journey would be much harder without them.

To an outside observer, Dale and his Pokémon would have made a very strange site as they traveled down the mountain. Spearow didn't always want to fly. She made a tangled nest in Dale's long blonde hair and sat comfortably on top of Dale's head.

Bulbasaur walked on Dale's left. The boy had a large brown scar on his left side from the day he saved Bulbasaur from a pack of Houndoom. Bulbasaur liked to think he was protecting Dale's injured left side.

Growlithe was full of energy. He bounded along seemingly on his own journey. Sometimes he was ahead of Dale, sometimes behind him, but in the end he was always close by.

Machop liked to practice his strength by breaking branches from trees and whacking rocks as he went. This irritated the other Pokémon, so Machop always hung back a bit when they were strolling through the mountains.

The group saw many things as they walked. Higher in the mountains they saw Geodude, Graveler, and Golem rolling down the mountainsides. The rock Pokémon rumbled and roared like thunder as they smashed into each other and shaped the landscapes with their movements.

On the flatter plateaus they saw great herds of Tauros and Rhyhorn. They saw swift Doduo and Dodrio dashing among the pine forests and grasslands that covered the mountainsides. And they hid from packs of Arcanine and Mightyena as they stalked their grass eating prey.

They drank from rivers and streams and watched Goldeen streak through the water like flashes of light while pale blue Poliwag splashed about in the shallows.

As they neared the foot of the mountains the landscape began to change. The forests became thicker, the ground became less rocky, and grass often grew higher than even Machop stood. Dale and his Pokémon walked close together since other wild Pokémon would often pop out of the tall grass ready to defend their territory aggressively. During these fights, Dale always stood with his Pokémon and fought just as hard as they did to drive the wild Pokémon off.

On the twelfth day, as they were walking through a thick pine forest they came upon something they had never seen before. A wide path broke the wildness of the forest. It was straighter than any Pokémon could make in their wanderings. It was flatter and smoother as well and barely a sapling grew upon it.

Warily, Dale and his friends followed the strange path. It barely changed as it cut through the forest. It barely wound or bent and Dale decided that people must have made it. No Pokémon would waste their time making anything so unnatural.

They walked the path for nearly half a day without incident. Other Pokémon seemed to avoid it, and other than a few Spinarak and Ledyba resting against the trunks of trees they didn't see any Pokémon at all. But, as night fell they did see something else they had never seen before.

Dale stopped in his tracks. His friends stopped as well. They stared at a monstrosity made out of perfectly flat pieces of wood. It had painfully straight sides, holes that stared at you like eyes, a mouth closed with a solid piece of wood, and a perfectly pointed head. From what River tried to tell him, back when the old man lived in the valley for a while, Dale knew that this was a house. And if what he knew about houses were true, he would definitely find people inside.

**The End of Part 2**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer – I do not own Pokémon or any of its characters. This is purely a work of fan fiction and will not be used for monetary gains.

Note – This story mostly takes place in the Kanto and Johto regions, but includes Pokémon from all regions and generations. I have taken inspiration from the anime and game and will be taking quite a few liberties with battle mechanics.

I hope you enjoy it.

**The Real Wildling**

**Part 3 – An Encounter in the Woods**

In general, Dale was a very brave boy. As a small boy he was already wrestling Machop and catching and riding Ponyta. But, as he stared at a cozy Ranger's cabin nestled between pine trees, covered in autumn leaves he suddenly felt afraid. To him the one room house was something completely alien. And, even though he longed to look inside it, the fear of what he might discover kept him frozen in place.

Bulbasaur roared softly and nudged Dale with his head, urging him to swallow his fear and look inside the house. Dale touched his friend's bulb as if trying to draw some of the Pokémon's confidence into himself. It worked. He squared his shoulders and slowly walked over to the cabin.

Dale wasn't sure what to do next. River had told him that people lived inside houses, but he didn't tell him how houses work. Dale had no idea how to get inside the house, or how to get the people to come out.

"Hello," he called as he came near the house. It was a word River had taught him, a greeting of some sort. But, nothing happened. Even after Dale shouted "hello" again and a few other words that he remembered River using.

He scrounged up his courage and walked closer to the house. After all, it didn't seem to be doing anything threatening. He peered in through one of the open eyes.

It was dark inside the house. The only light came in through the eyes at the front of the house. The inside of the house was filled with things. There were large and small belongings stacked neatly all over the single room. But, to Dale's dismay, there were no people. Disappointed, he sunk down onto the ground and sat down with his back against the house and closed his eyes.

Dale must have been very tired from his long day of walking, because when he opened his eyes again it was already very dark. Through the treetops he could see a few stars blinking in the black night sky.

His stomach rumbled and he realized that he was very hungry. He was about to go looking for food when he noticed a pile of nuts and berries lying in front of him. His Pokémon friends, who were all curled up fast asleep around him, must have gone foraging while he had been napping. Dale gratefully ate some of the food, took a deep drink from the water bottle River had given him, and also went back to sleep.

The first thing Dale did when he woke up the next morning was to peer through the eyes of the house again. Everything was exactly as it had been the previous night, and there was still no sight of people. This in itself didn't surprise him much. He was sure one of the Pokémon would have warned him if someone had gone into the house. Still, it was pretty disappointing that after so many days of walking he still hadn't run into anyone else. Maybe, he thought, there just weren't as many people out there as he had once been told.

It was only after eating breakfast and taking his last few sips of water that Dale noticed Growlithe was gone. This in itself was not surprising. The Pokémon was extremely independent and loved to explore. But, Dale couldn't help feeling worried. They were in a strange forest with many unknowns. There was no telling what could happen to Growlithe alone in the woods.

Just as Dale and the other Pokémon were about to set out to look for Growlithe they heard a loud shout and a panicked roar from somewhere in the woods behind the wooden house.

Dale didn't need to say anything to his friends. Both Machop and Bulbasaur ran along beside him while Spearow flew on ahead through the trees to look for Growlithe. Seconds later, Spearow sped back between the pines. She flapped frantically in front of Dale's face and screeched that Growlithe was in trouble.

Dale leapt over roots, dodged around trees, and broke through bushes. He didn't care as thorns and branches caught on his jacket. He didn't feel his belongings banging against his ribs. He barely even noticed as his foot caught on a rock and he stumbled. He merely righted himself and kept running. All that mattered was getting to Growlithe.

Shortly he and his friends came upon a clearing. There was Growlithe. The Pokémon was clearly injured and looked ready to collapse. Across from him stood an unknown Pokémon shooting bursts of water at Growlithe that the fire Pokémon was barely able to dodge. It was blue with ears that looked like small wings, a tail that looked like a cloud, and an orange shell on its back. Behind it stood a person.

The person was clothed in a second skin, just as River had once been. But, this person was clearly much different from River. First of all, she was much younger than River, and she was a female. River would have called her a girl. She was shorter than Dale and thinner. She had brown hair that was tied back behind her head, an oval face, and a pair of intense blue eyes.

The girl was clearly directing the attacks of the Pokémon and with her vision and its strength Growlithe didn't stand a chance. Suddenly her arm went down to her side and it came up holding one of the round stones River had called a Poke ball. She whipped back her arm and through the ball at Growlithe.

Before it could even come near Growlithe, Dale burst into the clearing. He smacked the ball out of the air with the back of his hand and stood protectively in front of Growlithe. At the same time Spearow flew over his shoulder. She sped right for the blue Pokémon and furiously pecked at its head. She dodged this way and that as it tried to retaliate and kept up a relentless attack. Bulbasaur and Machop also cleared the tree line and started flanking the duo in a menacing way.

The other person didn't miss a beat. She shouted something to her Pokémon, which withdrew into its shell rendering Spearow's attacks useless. Then her hand went down to her side again and the next moment she threw two Poke balls into the air.

"Arbok, Lickitung, go!" she shouted. Dale barely understood what she was saying, but he watched in amazement as a giant purple snake and a pink blob of a Pokémon appeared out of the balls in a red flash.

Machop had a large branch in his hands. He swung it at the pink Pokémon. But, at a command from the female, the pink Pokémon's impossibly long tongue shot out and ripped the branch out of Machop's hands. Then it whipped its glistening tongue around and licked Machop's face. The tough fighter shivered and then fell to his knees. He looked as if he was struggling to move.

Bulbasaur wasn't faring much better. The snake was fast and managed to dodge each whip from Bulbasaur's vines. When the grass Pokémon sent a flurry of razor sharp leaves at the snake it spat a stream of acid that dissolved the leaves into dust. Then it suddenly lunged forward and wrapped its body around Bulbasaur, immobilizing him and squeezing the life out of him.

Dale watched as his friends were immobilized one by one. But, unlike the girl, he didn't hide behind Pokémon. He dropped some of the berries from breakfast in front of Growlithe, and then with a roar of fury he ran into the battle.

First, he went for the pink Pokémon. He picked up the branch that it had tossed aside. Before the Pokémon could lash out its tongue at Machop again, he smashed the branch into the side of its head. He hit it two more times, beating it back and giving Machop a chance to shake of the paralysis.

When Machop jumped back into the fight, he launched himself at the snake. He grabbed the great purple monster's tail and yanked it backwards. The snake was strong, but Dale had been wrestling Kangaskhan since he was just a toddler. His muscles bulged and with a great amount of effort he managed to rip the Pokémon off Bulbasaur. Bulbasaur immediately charged back into the battle.

Willow stared openmouthed at the scene in front of her. She was on the verge of adding a Growlithe to her collection when a group of wild Pokémon and a very wild looking boy erupted from the woods. Though stronger than usual, her Pokemon was more than a match for the wild ones. But then the boy, with no regard for his own safety, jumped into the battle himself. And with his help, the wild Pokémon were actually beating back hers.

The whole thing was completely inexplicable. Her Pokedex was telling her that none of these Pokémon belonged to a trainer. But they were fighting in complete unison with the boy as if they had been by his side for years.

Willow knew she had to do something. She only had three Pokémon on her and the boy wasn't fighting fair. It looked like the Growlithe was recovering too. If she didn't think fast her Pokémon were in serious trouble.

"Stop!" Willow yelled. She pulled out her Poke balls, recalled her Pokémon, and held up her hands in a sign of defeat. The wild boy and Pokémon looked like they might attack her instead, but then the boy made some very strange sounds. The group started backing away slowly till they were standing on the other side of the clearing from her. Clearly exhausted, the boy sat back on his heels and regarded her with a look filled with curiosity and mistrust.

**The End of Part 3**


End file.
